Dear Sweet Holy Mother of Jesus. The things I hear come out of my teenage daughter’s domocile. My house was infested with her and her little teenage friends last night.

So, I’m painting last night in the hallway between my bedroom and hers when I here, “Oh my God, he’s raping her!”

Being somewhat alarmed that they were watching something questionable on the boob-tube, I put down my paint roller and wander in there to find out who’s raping who.
As it turns out, it was her latest acquisition of animal friend. Rats.

Not long ago, we lost our dear bearded lizzard to a firefly. Well, she didn’t waste any time finding a new pet. Actually, she got one, her boyfriend got one, her friend Jesse got one, her friend Cody got one, and Aaron got one.
They were supposed to reside at her Josh’s house. But, Monday night, here come the teenagers with this huge tank of rodent friends.
Not to mention that Amanda’s rat just gave birth to 9 babies, that will be full grown soon enough. I’ve already demanded that they be sold or released.

Turns out that one of the boy rats was horny as hell and he was chasing this girl rat around and around and around the cage. Apparently he got lucky for a split second and caught up with her. Which is who was raping who.

Other things I heard come out of that room last night whilst rolling paint on the walls:

– Damn, if that was me, I’d have done given up, lit me a cigarrette and counted my losses. (In reponse to the chase for ass)

– Well, those two ate him because he had a big package and they were sick of it. (In response to why the one albino rat was missing).

2 Responses to “F*@k Like An Animal”

In psychology I once heard that a male rat could keep going as long as you keep changing the female rat. He soon tires of the same one. Could be a life lesson there women should learn and remember. We ain’t worth a crap!